


Homecoming

by LoveOneAnother



Category: Moana (2016), Moana (2016) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hawaii, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23522002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveOneAnother/pseuds/LoveOneAnother
Summary: 22 year-old Moana Waialiki just graduated with a Bachelor's in Biology from UCLA. After returning home to Honolulu for the next few months, Moana hopes to balance studying for the MCAT, researching with the University of Hawaii at Manoa, and working at her family's beloved restaurant: The Heart of Tefiti.29 year-old Maui was Honolulu's hometown hero back in his undergraduate days as the star center for the University of Hawaii at Manoa's football team. After a failed attempt at landing a spot in the NFL all those years ago, Maui amassed an impressive fortune for someone his age as a business mogul and consultant -- but misses his time in the spotlight.When Moana's parents admit that their restaurant and their family are on the brink of financial ruin, Moana knows just who to call.
Relationships: Maui & Moana Waialiki, Maui/Moana Waialiki
Comments: 25
Kudos: 41





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> First off, thank you for giving my first fic almost 500 kudos. I am in awe and so grateful that readers found joy from my work. Wow. 
> 
> Second, I'm keeping my promise to write this second Moana fic. Just want to let everyone know that I am not from/have never been to Hawaii and that I know only the basics of the pre-med track along with owning a restaurant. If there are incongruences on my part because of a lack of knowledge, I apologize -- and feel free to (politely!) provide feedback. I am a full time student, so it may be difficult to update this as regularly as I hope -- but I will aim for once every week or 2 weeks.
> 
> Third, I hope that this fic can bring you all some extra joy during these unprecedented times. The theme of financial difficulty runs strong throughout this story, and as a content warning, I want to be clear that it may cause unwanted anxiety to those affected by the downturn of the economy due to COVID-19. I pray that you and your loved ones are safe, and I am so grateful for all of the medical personnel, custodians, grocery store workers, educators, etc. who are actively fighting this pandemic. We will get through this together.

Fingers of the orange sun laced through the palm fronds, holding hands with each other then breaking apart as their Jeep hugged the coast.

She hadn't been home since Christmas. Hawaii felt years away when she was in California, like a half-dream half-movie of her childhood. She pocketed her nostalgia, all those moments where the thought of being here would pass over her. Now, they flew towards the sun as she basked in the feeling of _coming home_.

She missed the colors of Honolulu the most. The freshly-cut grass always gleamed a little too green in the L.A. sun. Yes, she loved the sleek buildings and neon street signs and the curve of the hills when you're still up at 5 A.M. after a night out. But here, in that place between the ocean and the forests, the land and sea changed colors with the rise and fall of the sun and moon. The palm trees did not sway the same in Hollywood.

"Holy _shit_ , I missed this," Moana exhaled. Her loose curls swept up towards where the roof of the Jeep would be if her father hadn't taken the top off.

"Watch your tongue, Mo," Moana's father, Tui, threw her a sideways glance before smirking, "Just because you've graduated doesn't mean you're some sort of chief now."

Moana rolled her eyes before Tui patted her arm. Those moments right before the final turn onto her street, just when the scattered houses facing the ocean turned into neighborhoods and shops and restaurants and the last slices of the setting sun cut across the edge of the street sign that spelled out where she grew up.

The clay-colored shingles almost bled under that amber sun, the faded exterior of her house a pale white in the shadows of the palm trees dipping their fronds over the side of the yard. Tui pulled into the driveway behind their gold minivan. The rust-colored front door opened, Moana's mother, Sina, stepping out onto the tiled front patio.

"Hello, my love!" Sina folded over her daughter with the warmth of a clear, sun-soaked wave, "I can't believe you're home for _good_."

"No matter how hard you try, you're never going to convince me to stay at home forever. You know this is temporary," Moana patted her mother's shoulder, "just until research and this god-forsaken MCAT is over."

"C'mon, Mo! I wanna get your stuff inside before it gets dark," Tui lugged two suitcases up to the front door.

The tinkling of dog tags jingled from behind the front door, and Pua, the Waialiki family's bull-dog mix with the pinkest nose Moana had ever seen, bounded through the yard to jump up against Moana's shins.

"Hello, Mr. Pua! Look how handsome you are today!" Moana crouched down as Pua's tongue licked gooey strips on her cheeks.

"The food's almost done, so let's get these bags inside like your dad said," Sina retreated to the kitchen.

Just before walking back down the driveway to help her dad with her luggage, Moana said a tiny prayer up towards the sky -- thanking whoever was up there for moments like this.

***

"So, are you jet-lagged?" Sina picked at the vegetables on her plate.

"Jet-lagged, yes, but it's only a 3 hour time difference," Moana took a sip of her citrusy IPA, the perfect alcoholic beverage to pair with their three-person feast of pork with fresh pineapples and green beans and dirty rice.

"Not going out tonight, hm?" Tui crossed his arms, looking around the dining room and out the back window.

"No, I'm just gonna go to bed..." Moana brushed her hair out of her eyes. The sounds of chewing and Pua's paws on the hardwood floor were the only sounds throughout the house besides the occasional hum of the AC.

"Is everything OK? You both seem a little quiet, especially since I just got home," Moana eyed her parents across the table.

Tui and Sina traded glances. Moana's stomach seemed to coil like a serpent, "What is going on?" She gripped the table, one repurposed from driftwood with its knobs and gnarls worn down by the tide. She rubbed her palms against it, like sand paper, begging her parents to divulge whatever they seemed so preoccupied with.

"It's about the Heart of Tefiti," Tui wrestled with the words.

Moana's heart started to scramble, pumping more and more blood throughout her limbs until her fingers nearly shook, "Please just say it."

Sina looked down at her hands in her lap, "We are thinking of selling the restaurant."

Moana experienced that same feeling as plunging into the deep end of the pool at eight years old, just barely able to tread water and touch the bottom. All of those dives she took to stare at the drain or to retrieve a plastic ring, swearing she wouldn't be able to come back up and that her lungs would peel away and that her head wouldn't reach the light and air on the other side and that her throat would flood with water.

Moana shook her head, "Why? Why would you even think about doing that? We have given ever-"

"We are barely scraping by. We can barely afford to pay all the staff's wages. If you think this is a decision that me or your mother would ever want to make, you're wrong," Tui chewed on a piece of pork, letting the fork clatter on the table next to his plate, "This is about survival at this point. We can't keep living like this. Everyday I'm afraid of going into work and seeing how _little_ money we're making."

"How, how bad is it? How much longer until we would have to close it?" Moana felt small, like she was five years old again and squishing into the space between the couch and the wall during hide-and-seek.

"Probably by the end of the summer," Sina's voice cracked, and she almost sprinted off into the kitchen so Moana wouldn't see her cry. The splash of water hitting the sink and the rubbing of the sponge against dishes sounded from the kitchen.

"Mo, you know the restaurant is our life. But the only thing that's more important than that is that the three -- sorry, _four_ of us, since I always forget Pua -- have a roof over our heads and food on the table. The mortgage on this house is not low. Paying for your college was a lot of money. And all of that is OK, but right now we need to figure out how to stay financially on top of everything."

"I'm gonna figure something out. That just can't happen," Moana stood up from the table, walking down the hall and up the stairs to her room.

"Where are you going, Mo? Your food's gonna get cold," Tui called up to her.

"I'm gonna fix it. I promise," Moana shut her bedroom door and booted up her old Dell desktop computer.

That feeling of helplessness, of letting the water push and pull her in the deep end, never lasted. Moana always broke through the surface. She just needed to remember to kick her legs on the way up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our girl Mo cyberstalks Maui

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sporadic updates. Trying my best here! Wear a mask. Black Lives Matter. That is all!

His LinkedIn profile was the first search result. _Maui Iosua_. She scrolled through his education: an MBA graduate from the University of Pennsylvania's Wharton School of Business and a Bachelor's degree from the University of Hawaii at Manoa. His work experiences involved all sorts of business roles from financial analyst to consultant. He currently worked as an Associate Consultant at Venture Pacific, a national environmental and business consulting firm with a branch in Honolulu.

The introduction at the top of his page read: _Business expert with an entrepreneurial spirit with focuses on maximizing efficiency and profit for clients. MBA recipient from the Wharton School of Business. Retired collegiate football player at the University of Hawaii at Manoa. Hawaii native currently based in Honolulu._

Moana thought over her plan of attack: message him on LinkedIn, or peruse the consulting services site to get in contact with him? Hell, why not both? Moana rolled her eyes as she read the stupid "500+ connections" icon before clicking the "message" button.

Her fingers hit the keyboard: _Hi Mr. Iosua. My name is Moana Waialiki, and I am a recent college graduate from UCLA. My family owns a restaurant, the Heart of Tefiti, here in Honolulu. We are in desperate need of your help, as the restaurant's financial situation is grave. We have been long time fans of U of Hawaii football and have watched your success as a player and in your business. Your services would not be paid through monetary means, but a variety of services our family can offer you such as free meals, running errands, housekeeping, laundry, etc. Please feel free to email me or call me at your earliest convenience. Thank you!_

Moana exhaled as she clicked the "Send" button. She went back to the Google page with the search results for Maui's name, opening his profile on the Venture Pacific consulting page. She skimmed his biography, similar to the one she came across on his LinkedIn. She scrolled to the bottom of the page: _Mr. Iosua may be reached via phone or email_. _Please fill out this contact form and Venture Pacific will be in contact with you shortly. Thank you for your interest._

She filled out the form, leaving her name, phone number, and email with a quick message: _Dear Mr. Iosua, my name is Moana Waialiki, and my family owns a local restaurant in search of hiring a business consultant such as yourself. We are a local restaurant in search of an experienced business consultant. Please contact me as soon as possible. Thank you._ She pressed "send," then sat back in her desk chair and stared at the ceiling.

Moana didn't know why she immediately thought of Maui Iosua, the former collegiate football star and hometown hero that Honolulu loved to love. For whatever reason, asking for financial help from a stranger she thought she knew seemed more plausible than asking for help from loved ones and friends she actually knew.

She knew he had circulated through NFL training camps without any success in securing a contract from a team, eventually ending up in consulting somewhere on the island -- but she didn't really know him, hell, had only even seen him on the TV or newspapers or on his Instagram profile or on a jumbotron. She only saw him in person from far away, a small dot of space along the football field amidst other identical dots at the handful of U of Hawaii football games she attended as a teenager.

She blushed with the embarrassment of her teenage crush and the gravity of the situation at hand. The poster from the University of Hawaii at Manoa's Athletic Department with Maui front and center was still hung up on the back of her closet. Maybe he would read her messages and feel a surge of generosity and offer his services like some sort of genie. With all of his athletic and career success, she would not have been surprised if he was half-man and half-god.

*********

He always checked his spam inbox. Since he worked with commercial clients, his email filter often tagged these threads as promotional — and straight to the junk folder. He had asked the office manager, Leda, not once, but twice to look into switching email plans that didn’t require digging through hundreds of advertisements and click bait to find a response from a client. She always brushed him off, saying that was for the senior consultants to decide.

LinkedIn was one of the worst sites with sending notifications and promotional material to his email. He usually ignored any of these emails he finds in his spam folder, not bothering to read any of the LinkedIn messages or connection recommendations or requests — clicking “Select All” and sending them to that virtual jungle where deleted emails end up piled on top of one another in red lettering.

His cursor hovered over one email from LinkedIn notifying him of an unread message from a Moana Wailiki. That name made him pause — definitely with Pacific Island origins, unlike the other “Kerry”s or “Jason”s that so often invite him to networking events. He clicked on the link.

_Hi Mr. Iosua. My name is Moana Waialiki, and I am a recent college graduate from UCLA. My family owns a restaurant, the Heart of Tefiti, here in Honolulu. We are in desperate need of your help, as the restaurant's financial situation is grave. We have been long time fans of U of Hawaii football and have watched your success as a player and in your business. Please feel free to email me or call me at your earliest convenience. Thank you!_

He was not sure what exactly he expected, but it wasn’t a vague request for him to work, no, _volunteer_ his consulting services to a failing business in Honolulu. Although she didn't explicitly say the words "pro bono," the subtext cried out from behind the words she had typed out. His eyes skimmed over the words, but keep flitting back to the small profile picture icon. He clicked on her profile.

It was a headshot of her on some college campus, probably UCLA, her alma mater, as she mentioned in her message. Deep brown almond eyes that squint just enough to prove she’s actually smiling. Cheeks with a hint of pink. Caramel skin. The wind was probably just about to blow at her curls and expose part of her neck to the camera. She was glowing, like she just finished eating a part of the sun and is ready to give all that energy back out to those around her.

 _Poor little college grad thinking she can take on the world just because she has a degree_ , he mused to himself. It didn't matter that her family rooted for him when football proved to be the greatest driving force in his life. His life moved so far past football, and his success was in the business world now — no longer in football.

He refused to work for free, especially when any free time he has is filled with working out and surfing. An hour of pro bono work was an hour lost of leg day or scoping out a surfer’s beach he’d never been to.

He googled the restaurant’s name, The Heart of Tefiti, just out of curiosity. It was about 15 minutes away from his office and had a 4 star average review on Google Reviews, but only from a dozen reviewers. The restaurant's homepage on their website prodded at his vision, an outdated and aggressive maroon color with yellow font. He scrolled to the bottom of the page, noticing the website had not been updated in the past 4 years.

Maui exited out of the browsing window and returned to his spam folder, deleting all the junk mail — except for the email about Moana’s message. Sending that message to the trashcan didn't seem appropriate, and he couldn't pinpoint why.

*********

The phone call came two days later, just after lunchtime. Moana sat on the couch with Pua on her lap, counting how many Goldfish she could catch in her mouth in a row as House Hunters played in the background. She was only giving herself a few more days to decompress after graduating and moving back home before studying for the MCAT.

"Hi Ms. Waialiki. My name is Leda, and I am the office manager for Venture Pacific. How are you doing today?"

Oh, _shit_. She muted the TV then took several long, slow strides across her living room as she balanced the phone against her ear, "Hi, Leda. I am doing well, thank you for asking."

"Good, good. We received your request for consulting services, and while we typically work with mid-to-large sized companies, your situation struck us as compelling being in Honolulu. We deal with national, and sometimes international, clients."

Moana nodded as if Leda could see her, then cleared her throat as she realized she needed to respond, "Oh, um, yes, of course. We are very much a Honolulu-based small business."

"What sort of consulting services were you interested in in particular? Maximizing efficiency of labor, managing the restaurant's finances, public relations and marketing...?" Leda's voice trailed off.

"Financial help, most importantly. The other stuff, or the other _services_ , would be very much appreciated," Moana slapped herself on the forehead.

"While we don't necessarily offer accounting or actuarial or insurance-based services, Mr. Iosua in particular has a large amount of entrepreneurial and financial advising experience. Anything specific financially that we should be aware of or that you would like to discuss, Ms. Waialiki?"

"Well," Moana slumped back onto the sofa, almost crushing Pua before catching herself on the armrest, "Our restaurant is potentially going to go under."

The pause on the other line made Moana's stomach plunge, then Leda's voice, a bit _softer_ , but all the more condescending, "If compensation is an issue, we recommend signing a long-term contract for our consulting services. We offer month-to-month consulting services, but the long-term contract is more affordable for our clients. I understand if your financial situation means you are unable to sign a contract or provide compensation, but unfortunately we do not offer pro bono work through Venture Capital at this time."

"OK, well thank you for your time. If you could please pass along my message to Mr. Iosua, along with my contact information, that would be very much appreciated," Moana's voice fell and threatened to crack.

"I will forward your information to Mr. Iosua. Thank you for your interest Ms. Waialiki. Have a good day."

Moana ended the call then threw her phone on the carpet before storming out of the living room, "This is _not_ fucking over."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm your comments are too cute ;) keep 'em coming <3

He stared out of the large windows of his office overlooking downtown Honolulu, the palm trees carving out chunks of the blue sky. Bikers and skateboarders and tourists and businesspeople bustled along on the sidewalk below as cars in an array of colors and models passed by. He wished he was lying out on the beach with a beer and a pair of sunglasses, not chewing over that LinkedIn message he chose to ignore.

“Maui,” Leda knocked on the door of his open glass office, “You had a new client request from a Ms. Moana Wailiki. I spoke with her over the phone and had to let her know of the expenses we charge clients which she did _not_ appreciate. She still insisted that I pass her information along." She placed a slip of paper onto Maui's desk.

Hearing Moana's name spoken out loud for the first time reminded him of the cliffs and coasts of the island with peaks and plummets on the tongue, like tropical birds roosting in the trees. Her name sounded like if Honolulu was a person.

"Thanks, Leda," he muttered as she walked back towards her desk. Making sure she was out of eyesight, he swiped the paper up to look at the information listed. He put a piece of tape along the top of the piece of paper then taped it to the bottom of his computer monitor.

*********

"I don't know what the _fuck_ to do, Liv," Moana walked along one of her favorite trails that led out to a breathtaking view of the ocean, Pua pulling on the leash and Moana's friend Liv right behind them.

"I know you trust me for a lot of your _emotional_ problems, me wanting to become a therapist and all... but I know _nothing_ about finances," Liv shook her head, her blonde, curly ponytail waving back and forth like a flag in surrender, "Such an unfortunate situation that you have every right to feel distressed about. Have you considered reaching out to the city government or asking for financial assistance in some other way?"

 _No, but I reached out to the next best thing_ , Moana thought to herself. She didn't know why she chose to treat the situation with Maui as a secret. Everything felt like a form of rejection -- the ignored LinkedIn message, the embarrassing phone call, and nothing from Maui in her inbox. She felt like she passed a cherished note in school only for the person to read it and not write one back.

Pressing past the overgrown vegetation and blossoming flowers, the trio continued along the narrow dirt path that wound like a snake in mid slither. Moana often found that hiking or running was the strongest outlet for any stress she experienced. For the past few days, her anxiety had boiled over to full-on distress. The urge to _just keep moving_ forced her out of the house and away from the monetary strain on her family. This was her second walk of the day.

"This is a super difficult situation for any person to go through, especially for someone to watch their parents who they are so close with and have given everything to barely be able to keep themselves afloat," Liv huffed as the path curved upwards.

"And it's going to sound so selfish of me, but now I have no idea how I'm going to pay for med school. I'm going to have to put all of my money into making sure my parents have food and heat and plumbing," Moana cleared her throat to mask the sound of her voice breaking.

"Never underestimate financial aid and scholarships since you are such a high-achieving person. Those can go a long way."

"I'm just so scared that we are going to lose the restaurant and then our house. What if we lose everything?" Moana stopped and turned around, tears brimming over. Pua licked at her calves.

"You have to trust that something good will happen from this process, and that everything will work out. Honolulu won't let this happen to your family," Liv circled Moana in a firm, sweat-slicked embrace, "Just take it a day or even an hour at a time. You will be OK. Focus on studying for your MCAT so you can eventually become the best doctor you can be." Liv gave Moana a loving kiss on the cheek.

Pua yelped at something rustling in the bushes, causing both girls to jump and almost fall into the thick underbrush beside them. They grabbed onto each other for support, giggling as they regained their balance.

Moana wiped her forearm on her face and nodded, "You're right. I'm going to go to U Hawaii's library to study this afternoon.

*********

She noticed the flyer as soon as she found an open table to spread out her notes and MCAT books on. Just after she zipped her backpack closed to retrieve a sheet of fresh paper, a pen, and her highlighters, she peered up at the bulletin board on the wall next to her. She blinked her eyes in rapid succession to prove to herself that she was actually seeing what she was seeing.

The purple flyer read: _From College Quarterback to Expert Consultant. The Shidler College of Business presents guest speaker Maui Iosua. UHM football alumni turned expert financial advisor and consultant._ There was a headshot of Maui in a collared shirt with his curly locks almost reaching his shoulders, a stern expression on his face. The date of the presentation was that night from 6 - 7 PM.

She shook her head then turned to her notes, telling herself to _focus, focus, focus_. The thought of seeing Maui rattled her; here was her chance to ask him in person for the help her family desperately needed.

She packed up her MCAT study books and diagrams of molecules and colored coded notes at 6:40, then trekked to the auditorium where Maui was presenting.

She heard him before she saw him, a combination of nerves and anger leaving her hovering outside of the auditorium doors. His voice was deep, cavernous, and all around her because of the auditorium speakers. She slipped in through the open doors, shuffling into the back row as he wrapped up his closing remarks.

*********

He recognized her immediately. A hot flash, like the stage technician turned up the lights until they burned a blinding white along his face. The words sloshed around the inside of his mouth like ice cubes in the midst of melting. What the fuck was she doing here? And why did he feel like someone switched the A/C off?

Her hair, still wet from swimming or a shower, dangling over her shoulder, her face turned in profile as she set her backpack down. Molten eyes staring right through him.

He shifted his gaze as he collected his thoughts, "So, uh, yes. There are multiple avenues that you will find in your passions and professions that intersect. And it is only through experiences like long nights studying or an unbearable loss or something unexpected that you find your true direction in life. Thank you for your time."

He ran a hand through his untamed hair and exhaled as the audience members applauded. Most people filed out of the auditorium while a few stragglers came up to shake his hand or snap a picture. He always found his gaze shifting towards the last row of the auditorium to make sure she was still there, staring down at her phone in her lap. The crowd thinned and thinned like splitting thread.

His stomach lurched as he realized the seat she was just sitting in was empty. Then he looked towards the center-most aisle, and there she was, stomping towards him.

"Um, excuse me? Maui? Do you have a second to talk?" She peered up at him from the first row of seats, the auditorium lighting illuminating her rosy cheeks and thick eyebrows that arched into a scowl. Her face looked even softer, her eyes an even more curious flash of brown than her LinkedIn profile picture.

"Yes, of course. And you are....?" He offered his hand, hoping she wouldn't realize he already knew who she was.

Her handshake was firm even though her entire hand fit in his palm, "Moana Waialiki. I've been trying to get in contact with you about our family business."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maui lifting weights >>>

"Ah, yes. I did get your message about my consulting services," Maui smiled down at her, then looked around to see if any of the program organizers or audience members hanging around were listening, "But I unfortunately am not offering pro bono work at this time."

"I'm not asking for you to give the same amount of time to helping us as you would your clients who can afford to pay you."

"I am so sorry to have to--"

"My family used to come to games when you played here. We've been fans of yours since you were a freshman."

People would mention his football career from time to time, but nothing as tender as _that_. He pictured her, years younger, in the stands with her mom and dad, cheering his name.

Maui's mouth hung open -- probably just enough for Moana to know she wasn't at 4th and 1 anymore, but had gotten the first down.

Maui tried to pinch the right words, fumbling, "That, well... I am very flattered by that."

"We can't pay you. But we can give you food and a place to eat and drink. This would be a chance for you to get back to your roots. I went to the same _high school_ as you."

He listened to her, but kept staring at her lips, how fast they moved, how the words she spoke were intimate but her voice was filled with force, "I just don't know if I have time--"

"Do you even know how embarrassing it feels needing to ask for help?"

A few people still trickling out of the auditorium turned around, along with some of the program organizers.

"Hey. _Hey_ ," Maui huffed, patting the air in between them to force the tension to settle, "You don't know what I've been through."

Moana's eyes narrowed. Maui couldn't tell if it was the shifting of her stance as she crossed her arms over her chest, or if the auditorium lights reflected in her eyes a different way, but she almost looked _scared_. Of _him_.

Maui cleared his throat and spoke to her with a softness he hadn't used in a long time, "OK. How about we exchange contact info and then we'll go from there."

He could tell she was holding back a smile by the way she pursed her lips. She nodded, reaching into her backpack for her phone. Some strands of hair hung down over her face, but he swore she was smiling now.

"Is texting OK for now?" Her phone screen cast a faint white glow over her cheeks.

"I prefer email, but texting is fine," Maui sighed.

She handed him her phone. He typed out his name and phone number. He locked the screen before he passed it back to her, sneaking a glimpse at her background of her in a bikini laughing next to another girl. His face reddened.

"I will text you later. Bye, Maui. And thank you," Moana turned on her heels, walking up the steps and out through the auditorium doors.

Maui didn't even get the chance to say, "You're welcome."

***

" _Fuck_ ," Maui huffed, a pair of 65-pound dumbbells dropping onto the floor beneath him. He let out a deep exhale as a trickle of sweat dripped into his eye.

He decided to convert the finished basement of his house into a home gym once he moved in last month, complete with dumbbells, a weight bench, some medicine balls, and a Peloton bike for his cardio workouts.

He normally never looked at his phone when he worked out, the speakers in his basement blasting anything from classic rock to EDM depending on what his workout schedule consisted of on that day.

The air was a bit too hot. Instead of walking to manually lower the temperature of the thermostat, he grabbed his phone from its charging station. He had an app that managed his security system and heating and cooling.

He scrolled through his notifications, looking for a text message from a number he didn't have saved. It had been two days since he had spoken to Moana after his presentation.

Sure enough, there was a message from a Honolulu area code sent 41 minutes ago. His heart twisted in a way that reminded him of right before he would step out on the football field. He paused the Steve Aoki track pumping through the speakers.

It wasn't like Maui was _waiting_ for Moana to text him. He was a busy man that was almost always spread too thin between clients. He wanted to figure out the "when's" and "where's" of helping Moana and her family to block out his schedule.

He had checked his phone more than normal since their conversation. He had been on edge since then, wondering when she would contact him and what this agreement would consist of.

He opened the message.

 **808-555-7800** : _Hi, it's Moana Waialiki. Thanks soooo much for helping us out. Was thinking we could meet to discuss next steps?_

He texted back immediately, his fingers moving fast along the screen.

 **Maui** : _I have a lot of availability midday on Tuesdays and Fridays. What were you thinking?_

He added her as a contact then headed up the two flights of steps to the master bathroom. The bathroom was spacious, definitely intended for two people with the double vanity sinks. The walls were painted a calm gray color, the same color as a ripe rain cloud. There was a skylight above the shower, and on clear nights, he could look up at the stars as he rinsed his shampoo and conditioner.

He let the water in the shower run for a few minutes, running back down to the first floor to pour himself a glass of scotch. He checked his phone as he walked back into the bathroom, taking his first sip of his drink. A new message from Moana. He almost spit up when he read it.

 **Moana** : _I could come over_

His phone dinged three times in rapid succession, all new text messages from Moana.

 **Moana** : _OMG sorry I meant like come over to your office_

 **Moana** : _Unless you work from home and that's easiest for you...?_

 **Moana** : _Sorry I'm the worst haha_

He rolled his eyes, then took a chug of his scotch.

 **Maui** : _You can come to my office for a 30-minute appointment. I will probably be in meetings or doing work before and after we meet, so I would appreciate it if you came on time._

 **Maui** : _Is it just you, or is it your whole family? Just wondering so I can book the conference room if needed._

She responded right away.

 **Moana** : _Just me. Let me know the time/place and I'll be there._

"This should be fun," Maui muttered to himself as he stripped out of his workout clothes and stepped into his steamy shower.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why the fuck did I draft this detailed-ass plan for a failing, yet FICTITIOUS, restaurant?

Moana stood in front of her bedroom mirror in a cheetah print midi dress with just a bit of a plunging neckline. The cinched waist hugged right under her ribs, the skirt portion breezy in between her steps. She hoped to mix soft and feminine “business casual” with an attitude of “don’t fuck with me.”

She brushed her hair back, deciding to pull it back in a half-up-half-down style with a few pieces framing her face. She slipped on her black block heels, hoping that her half-inch of added height would give her extra confidence. 

The thought of an individual meeting with just Maui, the two of them alone in his office, left Moana with a feeling of both dread and anticipation. Her parents still had no knowledge of her plans to attempt to save the family business. 

Mo always struggled to keep secrets -- but she knew her parents would reject any help from outside sources not just because of their lack of financial means, but also to protect their pride. She couldn’t disclose that she had recruited _Maui Iosua_ of all people, the high school and college football star their family idolized only a few years ago, to help her with this massive project -- not yet. 

The drive to his office was under 15 minutes. She pulled up to the address Maui had sent her, parking in between a BMW and a Mercedes Benz. The building was large, sleek, and modern with windows that faced the ocean and downtown Honolulu. _Nothing short of perfection_ , she thought to herself. After signing in to the visitor’s log managed by the security guard in the lobby, she rode the elevator up to one of the top floors.

The elevator doors slid open, and Moana read the words “Pacific Ventures” engraved on a gold plaque drilled into the wall before pressing the call button. 

**********************************

“Maui, Ms. Waialiki is here for you,” Leda knocked on the glass door to Maui’s office.

Maui tried _not_ to stare at the way the animal print fabric hugged Moana’s waist and the swell of her hips when she strode through his office door. 

“Let me know if you need anything at all. Enjoy,” Leda smiled before shutting the door behind her. 

Maui stood up from his desk, extending his hand out to her. She took it with a half-smile with one firm shake. His skin prickled at the contact just before he let go. 

“Have a seat at the conference table here,” Maui motioned to one of the leather chairs along the large, black wooden table in the middle of the office.

Moana sat down across from him, the seat of the chair letting out a squeaky _pfttt_. She riffled through her bag to pull out a legal pad and pen, beating the tip of it over and over again into the paper. _She’s nervous_ , he thought. 

Her eyes trailed over the potted fern in the corner along with his two diplomas matted and framed on the far wall. His office was sparsely decorated; he preferred a minimalistic design to maximize his work efficiency.

“So, before we begin, I wanted to ask you if there was a specific reason that your parents aren’t joining us today?” Maui eyed Moana from across the table.

“Oh, no… they just, they’re... busy with the restaurant,” She avoided his eyes and stared at the black, fan-like light fixtures on the ceiling. 

“Well, since it is their business, I would advise that they are present--”

“No! No,” Moana shook her head, “Sorry, I mean no _thanks_.” 

"No?” Ma cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. 

“No,” her jaw clenched. 

“And why is that?” His voice dropped, quiet and low like the part of the ocean that plunges away from the shallows.

He could tell she was not giving the truth in its entirety by the way her eyes danced along the raw hide carpet underneath their feet or the mini fridge next to his desk -- searching for something to fixate on besides his face. Moana fidgeted with the wave ring on her left pointer finger instead of answering him. 

“You have to be honest with me. Solid communication is the biggest tenets of a healthy working relationship, and good communication is built off of honesty,” his chest pushed against the fabric of his light blue dress shirt. 

Moana glared up at him, “Fine. I will tell you. They don’t know you are helping us.” 

“What?” The word seemed to stir the air between them.

Moana turned her body halfway, gazing out of his window that overlooked the coast, “ _Sorry_ to have upset you, but yeah. They don’t know I hired you to help them.” 

“‘Hired’ isn’t exactly the word I would use to describe what I’m doing…” he huffed, rubbing his temples. He tapped the toe of his dress shoe on the rug.

“OK, that I ‘forced’ you to help us,” Moana crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Yeah. For _free_ ,” Maui muttered. Moana nearly strangled the pen in her hand, her knuckles turning pale from the force. 

Maui took a long gulp from his plain black coffee mug, the liquid a little too hot on its way down his throat, “I don’t know how you expect this to work if your parents don’t know that I’m helping you. How am I supposed to access the restaurant’s financial records? How am I supposed to develop web copy, or manage social media, or find publicity opportunities? Or manage the staff? Regardless if your parents are paying or not, they need to sign a contract confirming that they are at least legally accepting my services.” 

“I guess I haven’t thought that far… which is why I need you,” her bottom lip deflated into the faintest hint of a pout. The midday sun cast a golden hue over her hair, bringing out soft reddish brown highlights on her otherwise dark hair. Maui wondered if she spent her days outside and it was a natural color change, or if she went to a hair salon where someone dyed it.

“Then you have to listen to me. I can already tell you’re very… _independent_ ,” he paused as he thought of words besides _insistent_ and _controlling_ , “But do you think you can let me take the lead?”

“Trust me, I know how to follow orders, your highness,” Moana sighed. _Definitely just trying to ease the tension by being a little smartass_ , he thought.

“Do you want me to present what I think our best options would be strategy-wise, then we can share it with your parents?” Maui reached for his laptop, opening a PowerPoint and rotating the screen towards her. 

The title slide read, _Draft Strategy for the Heart of Tefiti_ with a subheading of _Client meeting with Maui Iosua of Pacific Ventures and Mo_.” 

“Mo…?” Her voice trailed off, and she pointed one of her painted red fingernails to the two letters that stood for her name.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot how to spell your first name. And your last name. Didn’t know if there were two N’s in ‘Moana’ or just one, and no idea how many A’s and I’s there are in Waialiki,” Maui chuckled, "I forgot to look into it before you came by."

“It’s OK. My friends and family call me ‘Mo’ more than ‘Moana,’ anyway. And it’s M-o-a-n-a. My last name is W-a-i-a-l-i-k-i,” she flipped her hair over her shoulder, then smiled at him for the first time since the meeting started. 

_That's how she does things,_ Maui thought as he added the correct spellings of her name to the title slide, _S_ _he charms her way through life and then fights for it if she has to_.

“Obviously our main goal is to increase revenue and net profit. I can’t provide a definitive target amount since I don’t have access to the restaurant’s finances, tax filings, etc…” Maui moved on to the next slide. His voice took on almost professor-like quality, like he stood at a podium in front of a lecture hall and tried to explain complex concepts in simple terms so students wouldn't fail the exam. He sounded eager to share his knowledge. It almost sounded like he _wanted_ to help.

“Wait, sorry, can you go back? I wasn’t done copying down everything on that slide,” Moana scribbled in furious sweeps over her paper. 

“You don’t need to copy this down. It’s just a draft.” Maui did not return to the previous slide.

Her tone was still polite, but edging towards pushy, “Just, could you please, so I can--” 

Maui huffed, then clicked the back arrow, “ _Yes_. Sure. I can say it again slower this time if that helps.”

“No, I heard you just fine the first time, but _thanks_ ,” her voice was venomous now, “You can continue."

Maui motioned to a slide labeled _Identify Existing Customers and Target Market_ , “We need to build a brand for The Heart of Tefiti, something that not only appeals to existing customers, but something that will attract new ones. 

“First, we will need to identify the target market. I think we should implement an exit survey to customers when they are done eating. You can’t force someone to complete a survey so there needs to be an incentive such as a coupon code for $5 off their next meal that costs $50 or over, or something similar. Questions would include age, estimate of how many times they’ve eaten there, what they liked, what they didn’t like, if they are locals or tourists, etc.

“Then we can use that information to develop a target market that includes existing customers and adds in new targets, too. Maybe there are lots of senior citizens eating there, or families. Maybe there could be more of a bar scene for the young adult crowd. There are lots of possibilities.” Maui looked up to see Moana, still, staring right at him. She averted her gaze to her legal pad and began to write at a rapid pace again. 

He flipped to the next slide titled _Website Redesign_ when she was finished, “This is another high priority besides the info on the last slide. The Heart of Tefiti’s website looks like it was made on Microsoft Paint.” 

Moana shot him a look that matched her dress, a tiger defending her kill, “Then why don’t I help you _fix_ it?” 

“Yep, that’s the point,” Maui grinned at her as she rolled her eyes, “But our consulting firm has an in-house graphic designer and web copy editor who we can use for this part of the project.”

The next slide read _Evaluating Staff and Addressing Staff Needs_ , “We need to implement an employee satisfaction survey and see if there are any internal issues that can be addressed.”

Moana opened her mouth, but before she could reply, Maui interjected, “No, this does not necessarily mean hiring or firing anyone. We just want to get a read on what can be improved so the business can be better.” 

Moana nodded, then went pack to jotting down notes. 

Maui clicked through the remaining few slides titled _Developing Social Media Accounts_ , _Editing the Menu_ , _Local Advertisements_ , and _Joining Mobile Order Apps_ , “These are all pretty self-explanatory. The _Joining Mobile Order Apps_ slide is just registering with apps like Uber Eats, GrubHub, and other meal ordering services to increase reach. Any questions?”

“No, this has been… impressively thorough. You are really good at what you do,” Moana’s dimples peeked out from the corners of her mouth, “I guess the next step is to have you pitch this thing to my parents. How about you come over to my house for dinner?”

“I, that's not necessary. They can just come into my office," Maui cleared his throat. He pictured eating appetizers, then drinking cocktails, then tasting every dish on the Heart of Tefiti menu. Dinner with the Waialiki's would not just be a few hours; it would be a whole _day_.

"We have to pay you somehow. A few free meals won't hurt," Moana slipped her legal pad and pen into her bag.

"OK, OK. Fine. I will come over for dinner. Just, please, can it not be more than 2 or 3 hours? I have other things I need to tend to." Maui sighed as he shut his laptop.

"Well, I can't guarantee that it will be that short. Does this weekend work for you?" Moana slung her bag over her arm.

"I guess so. Just text me to confirm a time and place," Maui reached for a binder on his desk, handing it to Moana, "And this is for you."

Moana stared at the binder in her hands, the cover paper titled _Strategy for the Heart of Tefiti - Draft_. She opened it, flipping through typed pages more detailed than the slides from Maui's PowerPoint or the notes she took herself.

"Why didn't you just tell me you were going to give me this? I wouldn't have taken notes," Moana grumbled, but Maui swore he saw the corners of her eyes lift up as if she were about to smile.

"You wouldn't have listened to me," he ran a hand through his hair.

"Thanks so much for helping us, Maui," Moana rose from her chair and paused before the door of his office, "And please be gentle with my parents. They are really hurting right now."

Maui swore he saw a flash of tears in Moana's eyes as she walked out. All he could do was give her a silent nod.


	6. Chapter 6

Moana texted Maui that night after she left his office, and the humidity seemed to ring in her ears,  _ Is this Friday OK for dinner? I promise it won’t take up your whole night _ . Her robe was still wrapped around her after her shower, the window cracked to let the air in.

She wondered where he was now. Still in his office, sitting at his desk chair with the view of downtown Honolulu and the ocean? Maybe he slipped out earlier than normal that evening and enjoyed a late dinner with family or friends or a date. Maybe he was on the couch or driving home or lounging in bed watching Netflix. Did someone like Maui even have time to relax? 

She opened up Instagram, typing in Maui Iosua. His profile wasn’t verified, but he had a little over 30,000 followers. 

“Wow,” she murmured to herself, scrolling through his posts. The most recent picture featured him and two friends reclining on loungers by a pool, sipping on fruity drinks. There were over 100 comments ranging from, “OK big guy” and thumbs ups to women sending heart eyes and flame emojis. There were other posts of a sweaty morning outdoor workout at a fitness studio, dinner, bars and clubs, surfing, his car, deep sea-fishing. Who was Maui Iosua? 

Moana laid on her bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as the metal chord clinked in the breeze. Her phone buzzed a few minutes later. 

_ Sounds good. Just text me the address and time.  _ Maui wrote back. 

Her phone screen cast a white glow over her face,  _ Yep. 7 PM. 135 Palm Drive _ . 

She felt embarrassed by the stupid grin on her face as she read his next response,  _ What do you and your parents like to drink _ ? 

His harsh exterior seemed to melt away in that moment. Maybe Maui did care about helping her family -- at least enough to be a gracious guest at their dinner. 

_ Anything goes. My dad loves IPAs. Me and my mom looooooove wine _ , she texted back, then added,  _ Don’t worry about it tho. You are doing enough for us already :) _ . She typed and deleted and retyped the smiley face multiple times before deciding to send it. 

Moana changed into an oversized UCLA t-shirt and sleep shorts before shouting downstairs to her parents who were watching TV in the living room, “Clear your schedules for Friday night. We will be having a special guest over for dinner.” 

“What?” Tui shouted back up to her, “We can’t hear anything you’re saying.” 

Moana sprinted down the steps, a little out of breath as she rounded the corner, “I said that you shouldn’t plan anything for Friday night. We will be having a secret guest over for dinner at 7 PM.” 

“Oh, Mo, are you bringing a boy home?” Sina turned and smiled up at her from her spot on the couch. 

Moana’s face turned a deep red, “Oh,  _ God _ , no. No,  _ no _ . He’s, it’s not… we’re not... “ she waved her hands in front of her like she tried to clear the air of the thought of her and Maui  _ dating _ . 

“Oh, so it is a guy, though?” Tui popped a few potato chips into his mouth. 

“Yes, well, yes. He happens to be a man, if you must know. It will all make sense on Friday,” Moana huffed. 

“Ah, a mystery man,” Sina laughed, “We will have your  _ not _ -boyfriend over, then. I can make rice pilaf and pineapple salad. Maybe you can grill up chicken veggie kabobs, Tui?” She turned to her husband. 

“Definitely. Excited to meet your  _ friend _ , Mo.” He chuckled. 

“Why do you have to be so annoying about it?” Moana rolled her eyes and walked back upstairs as her parents continued their jokes. 

She closed her door and checked her phone. Her heart beat a little bit faster when she read Maui’s latest text,  _ See you then, Mo _ . 

******

Cell cultures, collecting mouse data, running a few miles towards the hills and away from the bustle along the coast and downtown Honolulu, analyzing samples using a new lab device in the process of receiving a patent, throwing the same beat-up tennis ball to Pua in the backyard, listening to Camila Cabello’s first album on repeat. 

Moana moved into a rhythm of studying for the MCAT on her back patio, at her desk in her bedroom, or in the library on campus. She went into the immunology lab a few days a week for only a few hours, chatting with the post-docs and med students from the University of Hawaii at Manoa. Some nights she would Facetime her nerdy friends from the lab at UCLA or her sorority sisters, or walk along the beach with Liv. 

The pressure of everything, to the point she felt tension between her shoulder blades whenever she thought of the Heart of Tefiti and the sadness on her parents’ faces when they had first revealed their financial situation. Financing med school if she ever got in. Everything, right in front of her every time she rounded the corner of the hallway or drove to campus or opened the front door. She would spread her yoga mat as the sun set before another hot summer night, trying to relieve the stress she carried on her back with sun salutations as Pua licked the sweat off her calves. 

She refused to go to the Heart of Tefiti for fear that she would break down at the sight of empty tables and underwhelmed staff. She knew it was selfish to abandon her parents at this tenuous time in their lives, but everything would make sense on Friday at 7 PM when Maui walked through her front door. 

She found her mind drifting to Friday night often, a sense of anticipation she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Only a handful of people worked in the immunology lab with her, and their small group of 5 went to happy hour at a bar in downtown Honolulu Thursday night. Even as she sipped on a gin and tonic and twirled the ice cubes around with her straw, her focus kept floating away towards Maui. 

“You OK, Mo? You’ve been weirdly quiet tonight,” Dan, a post-doc, tapped her on the shoulder. 

“Yes, yes! I’m just a little tired, that’s all,” She smiled at her coworkers and finished her drink. 

*****

Friday night hung in Maui’s mind all week. He chose a crisp white button down and tan khakis to go with his black Gucci loafers after work on Friday. He kept telling himself that this was just another business dinner, that he had had dinner with clients hundreds of times before. 

This time felt different, though, as he pulled up to a quaint stucco with a warm brown roof. Smoke trailed above the back of the house, and the distinct scent of grilled meat hit his nose once he stepped out of his car. He wiped his sweat palms on his khakis, grabbing a brown bag with alcohol and flowers from his passenger seat. He slung his messenger bag with the client contract and his laptop over his shoulder.He walked up the walkway, his knuckles almost timid on the wooden door. 

Moana opened the door a minute later, a dog rushing through her legs and jumping on Maui. 

“Pua, down!” Moana squeaked, her curls falling in her face as she grabbed Pua by the collar, “I’m so sorry.” 

Maui wiped at a line of drool on his khakis, “No problem. I grew up with dogs, so I don’t--” 

He looked down at her then as she stood up. She wore a black halter neck tank top with a pair of faded, baggy jeans. She had cowrie shell earrings dangling from her ears, and Maui almost wanted to reach out and touch them. 

He cleared his throat, “These are for your mom… and you.” He pulled out a bouquet of wildflowers that seemed to have soaked up all the colors of summer. 

Moana shut her mouth then opened it again, “Oh, wow. They’re gorgeous. Thank you. You didn’t have to…” her voice trailed off towards the sky that still clung to the evening sun. Pua whined in her arms, craning towards Maui. 

“I would be a bad guest if I didn’t. And don’t think I forgot IPAs for your dad and a bottle of wine for you and your mom,” Maui grinned. 

Moana smiled back up at him for a split second, her face changing then, “Oh my gosh, what am I doing just standing here? Come inside!”

******

“Mom and dad, our guest is here!” Moana walked into the kitchen where her parents were chatting and cooking dinner. Maui lumbered in, almost having to duck in the entryway. 

“You both remember Maui Iosua, the center at Manoa,” Moana tapped her bare foot on the tiled kitchen floor. 

Sina dropped the spoon she was using to toss the vegetables in oil and spice. Tui put his beer down on the counter. Moana’s parents shared a look of confusion, then turned back to Maui and Moana. 

“Maui  _ Iosua _ ?” Tui scratched his head and grinned, motioning to the bouquet of flowers in Maui’s hands, “Are you two… together?” 

“ _ Together _ ?” Maui did not try to hide the reproach in his voice. 

“Moana said she was inviting a boy to dinner tonight,” Sina put her hand on her hip, shooting a look at her daughter. 

“No, no,” Moana blubbered, “I just wanted it to be, wanted  _ him  _ to be, a surprise.” 

Maui cocked his head to the side, glancing at Moana, “Did you not explain to them why I’m here?” 

Tui sighed, “No; she actually kept her mouth shut for once. Wouldn’t budge when we asked her.” 

“Mom and dad, I reached out to Maui last week. He’s a big-time consultant now, and he agreed to help us save the Heart of Tefiti,” Moana’s voice strained as she said the name of the family’s beloved restaurant.

Tui ran a hand through his hair. Sina let out a lengthy exhale. 

“ _ Moana _ ,” Maui growled at her, “I am going to step outside and let you sort this out. Pleasure meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Waialiki.” He passed by Moana’s parents as he slid open the patio door, leaving the flowers and alcohol on the counter. 

“What in the  _ fuck  _ were you thinking?” Tui stepped towards Moana, throwing his hands up in the air, “Do you know how much money this is going to cost us? We can barely pay the bills, and now--” 

“Dad,” Moana stepped to meet him, hands perched on her hips, “He’s doing it for  _ free _ .” 

A look of shame passed over her father’s face for just a moment, turning to sadness, “Moana, that is just… we can’t impose on him like that. How did you even get him to come here?” 

“I tracked him down. I told him we’ve been fans of his for years, and that we’d go to the games back when he played,” Moana squeezed her hands together in front of her, “Just please. You have to trust him on this. We will pay him back in food and drinks and, and  _ friendship _ .” 

“This isn’t a Disney movie, Mo,” Sina washed her hands in the sink, lecturing to her over her shoulder in a soft voice, “We can’t expect him to just give away his time and attention to us when he has other things to do. I’m not sure if he will even want to help us out anymore after… this.” 

“Just give him a chance. He is willing to. We just have to open up to him and take his advice and work around his schedule. I met with him this week at his office, and he has a detailed presentation and plan and can use people from his office to help us out, too,” Moana pushed her hair over her shoulder, “All you have to do is sign the contract which is free.” 

Tui leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded over his chest, “Sina, we might as well hear him out.” 

“I agree. God, I need a glass of wine,” Sina slid the tray of vegetables into the oven. 

“Maui brought us a bottle, and dad some IPAs. And, and some flowers,” Moana turned away to hide the strip of red creeping along her cheeks.

Tui gave her a tired smile before slipping out of the patio door with the grill tongs in hand, “Go pop him open a beer, Mo. We can’t leave our guest out there empty-handed.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, loveys. I have been a busy gal! Wash your hands. Be kind to one another. Wear a mask. Stay safe!

Moana slid open the glass door, walking out onto the stone-tiled patio. Maui sat scrolling through his phone, his eyebrows knitted together as he scrolled through his inbox flooded with emails. He looked up, Moana holding a bottle of Blue Moon in each hand. 

“Hey,” she handed him one, the condensation on the outside of the bottle cool against his palm, “I’m sorry. I should’ve told them before you came. I just, I always have these expectations of how things will go before I do them, and when they don’t go the way I want…”

Maui took a long swig from his beer, looking up at her from his seat, “You put me in an incredibly unprofessional position tonight, barging into your parents’ home, them thinking we’re  _ dating _ …”

Maui watched her face then as she sat in the chair next to him, her cheeks matching the amber color of the sky. She was silent, looking down to adjust the halter neck of her tank top. 

Her fingers played with the black fabric pressing taut against her collar bone, “Don’t act like my parents assuming that we are dating is the most  _ detestable  _ thing you’ve ever heard.” 

She rolled her eyes before tipping her head back to take a few sips of her beer. 

He grinned at her, “It wouldn’t be, but I mean, are you even old enough to be drinking that?”

“Yes, I am 22, thank you very  _ much _ ,” Moana slammed the beer bottle on the patio, “And how old are you? Pushing 40?”

Maui smirked, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, “Try 29.” 

“Old man,” Moana muttered before polishing off half of her beer. 

The glass door slid open, Maui balancing the tray of kabobs, his grill tongs, and beer while Pua ran out between his legs. 

“Let me help you with that,” Maui stood up from his seat, “And allow me to give you a proper introduction.” 

Tui grinned as he handed Maui the tray before walking over to open the grill on the other side of the patio, “Maui, it is a pleasure to meet you. I’m Tui, Mo’s dad. We were big fans of yours back in your football days.” 

Maui extended his hand out to Tui, “Maui Iosua! Great to meet you. I appreciate that, but it’s been awhile since I’ve even touched a football. I follow the NFL, especially for my fantasy league, but you know how it is… the time difference, no Hawaiian team…” 

Tui chuckled, “Oh, trust me. I know. The east coast teams are so hard to keep up with. I just stick to watching surfing competitions. Those time zones are usually more in line with ours.” 

Moana quirked her eyebrow. Why was Maui being so…  _ charming _ ? And had he always been that  _ tall _ ? She knew her dad was close to 6 foot, but seeing him standing next to Maui made her dad seem short. 

Maui’s shoulders shook as he laughed at something Tui said before turning to look back at Moana. She snapped her gaze away from his, the feeling of being caught making her cheeks crackle like the charcoal of the grill. She took another sip of her beer.

“Everything alright, princess?” Maui smirked down at her as he took a seat in the patio chair next to her. 

Moana rolled her eyes, “Princess? What kind of nickname--” 

“Did you know that Moana has a poster of you on her closet door?” Tui called out to Maui as he shut the door of the grill.

“Dad,” Moana stood up, glancing at Maui who was nodding his head, “That, it’s not… I was  _ fifteen _ .” 

“Fifteen and  _ obsessed _ ,” Tui let out a long, belly-rumbling laugh. 

Maui polished off the rest of his beer, “Huh. Moana didn’t mention that when she reached out to me.” 

“The real question is why she never took it down,” Tui waved the grill tongs as he shrugged. 

“It’s still up?” Maui grinned over at her, the evening breeze sweeping back some of his loose curls.

“I, yeah,” Moana threw her arms out wide, “I never took it down, and then I went to college, and I just got back… so  _ what _ ?” 

“Alright, let’s go help Sina bring out the food,” Tui continued laughing as the trio walked back into the kitchen. 

*****

“So, while the skewers are still on the grill, why don’t you tell us a little bit more about growing up here in Honolulu?” Sina smiled as she sat at the head of the table. Steaming plates of vegetables, sweet bread, and nachos kept the tropical print tablecloth from flying away with the breeze. 

“Well, I’ve grown up here my whole life, not too far away from here, actually. My aunt raised me on her own,” Maui rubbed the back of his neck, his shoulders tensing. He saw Moana turn to face him from her seat next to him. 

“And what does your aunt do?” Tui asked as he dumped a handful of nachos on his plate. 

“She is, sorry  _ was _ , a teacher at Honolulu Elementary,” Maui clasped his hands in front of him, “She passed away two years ago.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sina placed her napkin over her lap, “So, how did Moana approach you about this whole thing?” 

“Your daughter is very… persistent,” Maui took a long draw from his glass of wine, “It was hard to say ‘no’ to her. Impossible, actually.” 

Moana felt her cheeks burn, probably just from the beer and first sips of wine hitting her blood stream. 

“Sounds like our Mo,” Tui chuckled. 

“Yes. She reached out to me on LinkedIn and through my work, but she also stayed in the auditorium after I spoke to Manoa’s business school. She convinced me of all the reasons why I should help the family business,” Maui ran a hand through his hair, “I will talk more in depth about my proposal after dinner. I don’t want to spoil what I already know will be a delicious meal.” 

*****

“He’s so charismatic and handsome,” Sina stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Moana in the kitchen, the soapy water in the sink up to her elbows as Moana dried and put away the dishes, “Is he single?” 

“Mom,” Moana huffed, “I don’t know. I don’t know him that well.” 

“Well, maybe you should.” Sina laughed, handing Moana a serving platter. 

“We can let the rest of these air dry on the dish rack. I don’t want to keep Maui here too long. I’m sure he has…  _ things _ to do,” Moana looked out onto the patio where Tui and Maui sat drinking their IPAs. 

“You’re right. Let’s go hear what Maui has to say,” Sui patted Moana on the back and followed her out of the sliding glass doors. 

“I think we’re ready, Maui,” Moana clasped her hands together and looked expectantly at him. 

“Sure thing. I brought my laptop, but the screen is obviously not ideal for sharing. I printed out copies of the presentation with additional notes for each of you,” Maui opened his bag and handed Tui and Sina a binder. 

“Wow, you didn’t have to do all this for us!” Tui flipped through the pages, his eyes alight. 

“I’m very excited to share what I put together for you. Let’s dive right in,” Maui smiled. 

Moana zoned out the entire presentation, just listening to the sounds of Hawaii in the summer and the occasional rush of a car pass down the street and Pua’s snores as he slept on the cool stones of the patio. Maui’s voice was firm, but punched with a tone of excitement -- an eagerness that Moana didn’t expect. 

His demeanor was professional, yet relationship-driven. She understood how he garnered so much success at such a young age. He could connect with people and 

“Questions? Thoughts? Concerns?” Maui ended his presentation, slipping his laptop back into his bag. 

“I mean, I don’t know how you feel, Sina, but I think I’m sold,” Tui clapped his hands. 

“I am so grateful you are taking the time to help us. We are in,” Sina stood up and gave Maui a hug, “We will cook for you. We will run errands. Anything at all.” 

“After tonight’s dinner, I don’t think I can argue with that,” Maui grinned, “I am going to need you to sign a contract, though. It is legally binding in the sense that it acknowledges that you will receive services from my work and outlines the terms of service, but no fee will be involved. I can get my company’s lawyer to draft something and have you both sign it in the near future.” 

“We are alright with that. Thanks so much for your help, Maui,” Tui patted Maui on the back. 

“I should probably get going. Thank you for dinner. I will call an Uber since I’m a few beers in, then pick up my car in the morning,” Maui patted his stomach. 

“Oh, no, Moana can drive your car back to your house tomorrow,” Sina nudged Moana, who was cradling a sleeping Pua in her lap. 

“Yeah, sure… if you want me to. Just leave your keys here and text me your address.” 

“No need. I can get Carmen to pick it up.” 

_ Carmen _ . Who was Carmen? There was a strange tumbling, an unanticipated shift in Moana’s gut.

“Are you sure? Moana doesn’t mind,” Sina rubbed Moana’s shoulder. 

“Persistence must run in the family,” Maui chuckled, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “Sounds like a plan. Just please, Moana, don’t lose my keys.” 

Moana rolled her eyes, “Oh, please. What am I gonna do? Drop them in the yard?” 

“Maui’s right, Mo. You can be a wildcard sometimes,” Tui shrugged, “Thanks again, Maui. Just let Moana know when and where we should meet to sign the contract.” 

“Will do. Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Waialiki,” Maui shook hands with Sina and Tui. 

“I’ll walk you out,” Moana stood up, “We can use the gate instead of going through the house.” 

Tui and Sina’s goodbyes and thank yous echoed into the front yard as Moana shut the gate door behind her and Maui. 

“Well, you put on a show, didn’t you?” Moana leaned against the door of his car as he riffled through his trunk. 

“What do you mean?” He glanced at her as a few stray curls fell over his face. 

“It almost felt like you were trying to impress them.” 

“And why wouldn’t I be?” Maui shut the trunk and walked over towards the side of the car, a pair of running shoes dangling from his fingers by their laces. 

He looked down at her with something in his eyes that she couldn’t place. She felt the need to shrink, “You tell me.” 

“First impressions are important. And despite the fact that no money is involved in this agreement, your parents are still my clients. I want to make them happy,” Maui glanced at his phone, his face glowing a strange white, “My Uber should be here in 5 minutes.” 

“You OK with me driving your car? You can have your girlfriend pick it up tomorrow if you want,” Moana tried to keep her voice steady, nonchalant. 

“My girlfriend? You mean Carmen?” Maui cocked his head to the side. 

“Yes? And?” 

“God, Moana. She’s  _ not _ my girlfriend. She’s in her fifties and does my laundry, cleans my place, and runs errands for me. She helped out when my aunt was sick, and she’s been helping me ever since,” his voice was low with a bitterness she didn’t expect. 

“Oh. Sorry, I just assumed…” A pang of guilt hit Moana. She almost reached for his arm, but kept her hands curled up at her sides. 

Maui rolled his eyes, “No. She is not my girlfriend. You would’ve known by now if I had a girlfriend.” 

“How would I have known that?” 

“Because I probably wouldn’t have had enough time to help your family out if I did,” Maui glanced at the road as a car pulled up to the house. 

“That’s my Uber. See you tomorrow then, yeah?” He glanced at her over his shoulder.

“You didn’t even let me say thank you,” Moana called out after him. Maui turned around.

Moana stood on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck and putting her check against his chest. Her body flush against his. 

“Thank you so much,” she pulled back, “Good night.”

Maui didn’t get the chance to hug her back before she walked back towards her house. 


End file.
